


Poppy Seeds

by Lavender_Fields



Category: Daredevil (TV), Jessica Jones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Brainwashing, F/F, F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Mind Control, More to Add as Chapters Come, Rape/Non-con Elements, Series Spoilers, post season one
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-24
Updated: 2016-10-24
Packaged: 2018-05-03 03:08:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,501
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5274245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lavender_Fields/pseuds/Lavender_Fields
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jessica is taken from the docks by Kilgrave when he discovers his powers over her have developed once again. Will Trish, along with her new found allies in Hell's Kitchen, be able to find their friend and free her, or are Kilgrave's abilities too strong to break free of?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> How kickass was this show? Very.  
> I seriously haven't seen that much female-badassery since Buffy. I'm all for the lady heroisms, especially the moody kind. With this being said, I also love torturing the fictional character's I love so dearly, hence why this story has emerged. It isn't exactly going to be a 'happy' fic, so be forewarned!  
> (Also I'll write anything if it means I get to think about David Tennant's performances in anything but Doctor Who.)

“Oh, God. It’s true isn’t it?”  
He asked, voice nearly shaking in it’s eager anticipation.  
  
Jessica Jones couldn’t move. Her limbs were screaming, every muscle and tendon and bruised inch of skin commanded her to stop. Her mind was another matter.  Within her head was a mass of panic and sorrow and true, utter terror. There was nothing else that resided there.

She tried to think of her childhood streets as the man in purple stepped away from Trish and closer to her, but even those had been tainted by him. She knew she should feel relief. Her friends were going to be safe if Kilgrave realized that this wasn’t some kind of jest to try and gain the upperhand. Still, at the core of her selfish, lonesome heart,  Jessica almost wished he had stayed at the edge of the pier in that terrible embrace with Trish. At least that would have given her time to think, time to grieve. Not now.

 

“You would let me take your beloved sister. My god.”  
He exclaimed again, somehow even more breathless.

 

Jessica could feel the hot tears begin to spring from her cheeks. She couldn’t do this, not again, not when she had been so close to ending it all.

 

“It’s finally over. You’re mine now.”

 Her throat closed at the words. It couldn’t be over, not like this, not so simply as it had begun. A scream remained trapped in her chest. It clawed at her already broken ribs, pushed up against the bile on her tongue, but she could hardly even shudder.

 

“No more fighting, no more...no more of these ugly displays.“  
Kilgrave continued, waving his arms about the mess of blood and people scattered across the pier.

 

“You’ll be with me now.”  
  
It  looked as if his eyes were about to mirror the same glassey tears as her own. His mouth was contorted in some strange shape, something between a smile and a sob. Jessica wanted to hit it so hard that it would stay that way forever. Kilgrave seemed to read the concealed fire in her face almost immediately.  
  
“Look, after a while….however long it takes, I know, _I know_   you will feel what I feel!” He tried to persuade, as if he needed to. He bounced on the balls of his feet like an excited child, so far from the whimpering, defeated boy that he had been trapped as before. Jessica wished someone would come, a real hero. She imagined Luke springing forth from the churning water beneath the yacht, smashing Kilgrave’s skull against the pavement before he could even flinch. She imagined his body contorted and limp beside her feet, her hands finally able to curl around his neck….  
  
“Let’s start with a smile.”  
  
Jessica’s teeth flashed immediately and genuinely. Kilgrave’s laugh was like razor’s in her skull. He went to place his hands on her cheeks, or her hair, but hovered over them instead. She blinked away the remaining tears, knowing they would do no good here. Soon his breath was in her ear, fast and plain as if to convince himself it had hardly been an order.   
  
“Tell me you love me.”  
  
Jessica couldn’t even spare a glance to the only one of the dock she cared about. Trish would be safe, wouldn’t she? Kilgrave had what he wanted now, now Jessica really did only have to look out for herself. But, there was still so much she had left to do, so many wrongs she had planned to….  
  
“Jessica, tell me you love me.”   
He asked again, and like a static shock through her teeth Jessica obeyed.  
  
“I love you.”   
  


Kilgrave laughed again and finally laid his cold hands against Jessica’s windswept hair.   
  


“Oh, I love you too. I love you so much. It’ll all be alright now that we’re together, you’ll see.” He assured, and then suddenly, just as fast as the morning frost melts in the sun, all the fear and anxiety welled deep within Jessica’s chest seemed to exhale immediately.

  
“I’ll see that it’s all alright.” Jessica replied. She didn’t have to say the words, she could have remained silent, but she wanted to say something. Those were simply the first thoughts to spring to her mind.

 

“Yes, yes you will.”  
Kilgrave confirmed, brushing a strand of dark hair behind Jessica’s ear. As he did so, he felt the fine, straight scarline hiding up at the top of her neck beneath his shaking fingers. He frowned slightly.  
  
“It’ll be different this time, promise.”  
Kilgrave seemed to vow, removing his hold and turning his feet slightly.   
  
“You, stay here.” He commanded, looking straight into Jessica’s eyes with blatant authority before he paused, softening a bit and smiling almost sheepishly.   
“Everyone else, clear out! You’re all drunk and out of sorts. You just need to sleep and forget about this, yeah? Yes. Now go.”

 

The crowd of people began rubbing their heads and shoulders, helping one another up and clearing out from the harbour, some stumbling and tripping as they left. Even Trish made her way along, hardly sparing a glance to the two of them as she passed, running a pale hand down her arms as she abandoned the two. Jessica stayed where she was told, but she still felt a stab of pain as her best friend and sister walked out of her life, possibly for the last time.  
  
“You won’t miss any of them, it’s fine. You have me now.”   
Kilgrave murmured in Jessica’s ear and she felt her mind blink, as if her grief had merely been a grain of dust. There was hardly time for more pause before Kilgrave took Jessica’s hand and lead her into the awaiting boat. She felt as if she were floating, aware and unaware of those around her.

 

Kilgrave barked orders at the attending staff while Jessica kept her seat where he had left her. Soon the man was by her side aside, planting a small kiss on her hand and rubbing the chilled skin lightly.

“It’s amazing. Ten minutes ago I was planning my escape from the country after your demise- sorry, about that by the way- and now here we are, together again.”  
He beamed as the boat began it’s depature from the New York City Harbour.

“Oh, I love it when life let’s us win. Don’t you, Darling?” Kilgrave asked.  
Jessica tilted her head, barely noticing the passing scenery that was  marking the beginning of their second lives together.

 

“I wouldn’t know, I’ve never gotten to.” She answered honestly.

 


	2. Chapter 2

It wasn’t long before the New York skyline was nothing but small, dull lights hovering across the water. All the sparkle and mysterium of the city seemed to disappear the farther one moved away from it. Jessica imagined each light as a memory she held of her life spent away from Kilgrave. Each horrible memory of her parent’s crash, of Mrs.Walker’s shrill and commanding voice, of each cheating husband and sobbing wife. They all seemed silverlined compared to where she was now.  Kilgrave’s voice drew her sights away from the damp window.

"See, Jessica, I'm a changed man. I wasn't lying when I said you taught me how to feel yearning, and desire. That doesn't change now just because...well, just because  we're back to how we used to be."

Kilgrave lamented on, one arm around Jessica's still shoulders, the other outstretched and holding a Boulevardier cocktail. The man really did love to talk, when given an audience he considered worthy enough to listen. Jessica remembered how she had once been able to avoid commands simply by encouraging Kilgrave to rant about whatever was on his mind. It didn’t take any effort on her part now to try and keep words flowing freely from his mouth. They were coming all on their own.

Jessica too sipped ideally at her drink. Kilgrave’s commands convinced her tongue to savor the sweet alcohol when she rightfully knew she'd prefer a stiff whiskey over the sickly sweet drink in her hands. The influence of his words were so strong now that his simple remark of ‘enjoy’ seemed to truly alter her senses, making her crave the sugar over salt. The notion scared her more than her calm demeanor would show.  

“You made me work for it harder than anyone else had, I'll give you that. And all throughout this, this odd game you seem to like to play with life and death, and love and loathing…”

Kilgrave threw his hands up into the air in a mock surrender to the very ideals he was listing.

“Honestly,  I don't know how people do it all. We nearly destroyed each other."

Nearly, far too nearly for Jessica to even want to consider again. The image of Kilgrave’s lifeless body was still rich in her mind, even as she sat civilly, having nightcaps with the living and breathing man beside her.

"I bet you have a lot of questions. I’ll start.”

Kilgrave summarized, placing the empty glass on a nearby table and bouncing lightly up into an upright position on the small couch the two were both on.   
  
“While you were all running about the city doing-whatever it was you and your scooby gang were doing-I had dear old Dad working on another kind of enhancement for me. ‘Course, I’m sure you already knew that, you’ve always been so clever.”   
He smiled, using his now-free hand and lightly touching Jessica’s nose. It reminded her of being a child- she imagined it was what parent’s were meant to do to their own. She wanted to shudder away at the contact, but she had been told to stay still.   
  
“Anyways, long story, don’t worry about it. Point is, I had to go through all of that medical nonsense again. Cerebral fluid extraction, all that messy stuff, just to get you to see reason. I mean, if that's not love I don't know what is! Tell me, honestly, you must see that..."

Kilgrave hardly had time to finish the sentence before Jessica's voice had risen to fill the yacht's spacious enclosed area.

“I don’t see anything but a delusional, psychotic f-..."

"OK, that's enough honesty for now."

He cut off immediately and calmly, Jessica's mouth snapping closed just as quickly as it had opened. The man sighed tiredly, leaning back and patting the top of his companions leg chastely. He didn’t appear angry, and part of Jessica’s mind rebelled at that. She liked it better when she could  at least get a rise out of him, some emotion that he hadn’t planned on bombarding his judgement. Instead, he seemed to be serenely resigned.

"One step at a time then. Like I said, you'll come around."

He committed, scratching his brow casually as a bout of silence passed between them.  
  
“Well, go ahead, finish your drink. I have other exciting things to tell you.”  
Kilgrave continued, a drunken smile still playing at his lips though he was only a glass or two in. Jessica tipped her head back and finished what was left in her own glass, barely feeling so much as a tingle in her fingers.

“Feeling better? Here, I’ll get you another.”  
Kilgrave offered kindly, turning and snapping his fingers before calling for another drink in a tone contrasting against the gentle demeanour he had taken with Jessica. The staff rushed hurriedly about, and hardly ten seconds had passed before another, darker drink was placed before them. Jessica held onto it as if it were a liferaft in a wild sea.

“See, Jessica, despite your betrayal, despite everything. I still want your happiness. I don’t want you to feel trapped, not like before. I understand now.”

Kilgrave moved from his seat and lay one slender knee on the floor, as if he were a hopeless romantic about to propose. He took hold of Jessica’s hands, seeing she had already downed the second drink just newly bought over.  Kilgrave knew the strength that lay within those hands, could feel the energy hovering beneath the white skin and scarlet veins.   
  


“The enhancements, they’ve allowed us a second chance. I know not to try and control you blindly. I can do so much more, now. I can take away your worries, all I have to do is ask you to forget them. For instance, right now, tell me, what are you afraid of?”

Kilgrave encouraged, brows lifting in patient excitement for Jessica’s reply.  
  
She swallowed deeply, tasting the sweetness of her drink lingering in her mouth.  
  


“Myself.”   
Jessica answered slowly, feeling her hands warm of their own accord against Kilgrave’s own.   
“I’m scared of what you’ll make me do.”

Kilgrave laughed, a full and hearted sound that puzzled Jessica more than she thought her infected mind would allow.  
  


“Oh, Jesse, there’s no need to be afraid of that. Not at all. There is nothing,   _nothing_ I want from you anymore besides your love. Look at me,” He pleaded, knowing that Jessica would have no choice but to look fully and intently into his.   
“You know that I will do nothing to hurt you. You know that somewhere deep down, you’ve wanted this.”  
  
The words were a sudden and hard knock at the side of her skull, and with them they carried away Jessica’s fears somewhere far away and buried. She blinked again, as if processing the sensation and sudden freedom that seemed to resonate throughout her entire system. It was a strange and foreign feeling.   
  
“Does that make you feel better?”

Kilgrave asked curiously, before Jessica nodded her head, eyes becoming slightly vacant as the sensation continued to crawl through her.    
  
“Yes.”  
She said simply, smiling faintly through the foreign, clouded feeling taking over her. Jessica barely had time to consider that she was making the expression at the man who, mere moment’s ago, she was still imagining bludging to a slow and bloody death.

Kilgrave let her hands go and clapped his own in a sudden burst of glee, getting to his feet in a single, swift movement and waltzing about the room. “I knew it! I understand it all, now!” He sang, extending his hand out in silent invitation. It didn’t take a verbal command for Jessica to reach out and accept the gesture; She rose to her own feet with ease, barely feeling the gentle rocking of the boat upon the dark waves outside.

  
Kilgrave spun them both about once, catching Jessica by the small of her back gently. Remembering her tender ribs and feeling the wrinkled saran wrap still holding her body in place, Kilgrave made a mental note  to find a doctor at their next port and get that properly treated.   
  
“I can banish any sad or mournful thought from your pretty little mind. Any insecurity, any doubt. Oh, Jessica! We are going to be so happy!” He declared, capturing Jessica’s lips with his own and embracing her with such devotion she could hardly reciprocate.   
  
The air left her already fragile lungs, and Jessica could still smell Trish’s perfume hovering on Kilgrave’s neck. **  
**


	3. Chapter 3

Across and back in New York City, Luke Cage’s great build finally stirred atop the tired and worn mattress. He turned slightly, eyes blinking open before he brought himself bolt upright, only to release a strained groan and sink back against the headboard slowly.

  
“Go Slow.”  
Claire Temple bidded, watching the man throw his feet over the bed and collapse his face into his hands, still grunting past the pain and dizziness. Adjusting her blue nursing scrubs, Claire began to explain herself- though she wasn’t quite sure why she had to. She was the one who got pulled into this, anyhow.

Oh, who was she kidding. She wouldn’t have been able to leave the man there at the hospital once she knew what he was.

“I’m a friend of Jessica’s.”  
That seemed like a good place to start. Luke paused at that, glancing about his surroundings quickly in between his laboured breaths. He didn’t seemed to be too concerned with Claire.   
  
“How did I get here?” He asked,

“Jessica.” She reiterated before pausing. “Well, I helped.” Claire added as an afterthought, only to get another exasperated groan from the man  in response. Ok.  so maybe it was best to be 'all business' with this one.   
  


“Where is she?” Luke continued to question, only to have his shoulder’s pushed back gently by the nurse.   
  
“She’s taking care of things. You, on the other hand, need to rest.”  
Claire insisted, though the man was persistent in his efforts to raise himself from the mattress.

  
“She….I tried to kill her. Again. I have to do something.”

Luke resigned, finally pushing himself up to his feet much to the exasperation of Claire who was just as quick to his side to push him back down.  
  
“Okay, okay, enough! She saves you, you save her. You assault her, she gets you back. Neither one of you wants to hurt the other, right?”  
She asked rhetorically, already knowing the answer.   
  
Luke was obviously strong enough to fight back against her insistence if he wanted, but he chose not to, instead nodding his head dully in reply and falling back onto the bed.  
  
“Right, there. I’m sure Jessica has it all under control. All we can do now is wait.”

Claire assured, though her own words were bringing little comfort to either of them.

* * *

“For God’s sake, can no one make a decent Tiella di riso on this boat? No, try again!”  
Kilgrave scorned, having only just had a single testing bite of the grand dish placed before him.  The crew fluttered about him at the question, many replying shortly and frantically while some were still trapped in their vow of silence taken earlier.

Jessica could hear Kilgrave’s frustrated voice from up at the top deck where she stood, dutifully sorting through the guests forgotten clothes to find something ‘stunning’ to wear to dinner. Colour. Kilgrave loved colour. He used to say it made her look like the seasons-with her black hair and pale skin contrasting the rich tones around her. "A winter well found in summer".

Everything in the small guest room was more suited for a drunken night than a formal dinner. The couple who had once owned this boat obviously liked their guests, and despite the abundance of sweater vests and dinner jackets, there were still feminine pieces laying about here and there.

Jessica continued to sort through the closest meticulously, the singular thought of impressing Kilgrave in her mind and helping to guide her hands.  Reason was telling her how wrong this was. Logic was trying to persuade her that she would sooner want to strangle Kilgrave than seduce him. Despite knowing this fact, Jessica couldn't fight the deeply seated desire to please him.  She wanted to do it, she had wanted to for some time now, hadn't she?

_"You know that somewhere deep down, you’ve wanted this”_

The words echoed in her mind like the stubborn scratch of an insect bite. She could still remember the awful taste in her mouth that Kilgrave  had left behind, the sickening smell of his aftershave, the horrible visions of his possessive hold and quick tongue that she had been forced to relive over and over again. And yet, behind each terrible memory was a softer, more gentle one. One of her own making. After each act there was a distinct humm of something akin to desire, some kind of subliminal impulse that wanted each remembrance to go on longer.

_"You know that somewhere deep down, you’ve wanted this”_

 

It made Jessica nauseous.

Kilgrave, who had been pacing the floor impatiently for Jessica’s return, heard her approaching footsteps and moved quickly to his seat back in the main quarters of the boat. He did his best to appear quiet and composed as his companion turned the corner.  
  
He drank in the sight of her then. She was glowing against the softness of the candlelight newly placed on the table before then. Her small frame was wrapped in curtain of pale emerald fabric, and etched lace painted its way up her arms, all the way to her delicate throat.    
  
“My, how I’ve missed this.”

Kilgrave sighed, standing from his chair out of both courtesy and wonder.  
“You really are a sight to behold, Jessica. Do a twirl for me, let me see you.”

The dress flared open like a flower as she turned, Jessica’s arms outstretched and catching the  air around her before she stopped and was left facing the other just as before. The movement was so unlike her that it left her head dizzy.

“Beautiful. Breathtakingly so. Now, come and sit down, Darling. I’ve had the chef’s make our favourite.”  
He smiled, making eye contact with someone over Jessica’s shoulder and bidding them forward with a wave of his hand.  They had hardly made it two steps into the room before Kilgrave slammed his hand against the table, causing Jessica to jump in her seat in sudden surprise.  
  
“No! I can smell the burnt Pecorino from here, take it back!”   
Kilgrave yelled, causing the wait staff to drop the steaming plates they carried and curse despairingly. Trying to maintain their composure, they made no other sounds of complaint as they tried to clean the hot mess with their bare hands, desperately seeking to carry out Kilgrave’s command and bring it all back to the kitchen.    
  


Leaning over the table closer to where Jessica sat at the other end, Kilgrave lowered his voice so that only they two could hear.  

“I’m really sorry about this. I had assumed ‘luxury’ staff would have the competency to cook rice.” He scoffed, though Jessica didn’t appear bothered by the lack of food. She instead choose to remain tactically quiet. 

With an irritated huff, Kilgrave tapped his fingers on the table, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them again with a kind of quiet resign.   
  
“I’m going to work at it. This, temper, thing.”

He seemed to promise, though again, Jessica did not show any outward expression that it had been bothering her.

“Besides, it really isn’t about the food. It’s about us.”

He continued, reaching across to stroke Jessica’s hand in the tender fashion he so preferred.   
  


“I have a plan for us. You’re still not with me a hundred percent, I can tell. It’s alright.”

Kilgrave noted, knowing Jessica well enough to see the wheel’s in her head turning faster than even he could control.  
  
“I want to start with a simple exercise, dinner can wait. Everyone, out!” He snapped, silence falling  over the bustling kitchen and hurried footsteps marking the unwilling staff’s departure.

Jessica thought of Kilgrave’s own words, the one’s he had used when he had her staying in her old home, trapped there with her family’s ghosts. It felt like a life time ago.

_“I have a conscience, it’s just more selective. I care if you die. The rest are fungible.”_

“Hey, stay with me now.”  
KIlgrave beckoned, taking a gentle hold of Jessica’s chin with his thumb and tilting it back to his face. “Don’t let your mind wander. Focus on me.”   
  
Like a string tying herself to him, Jessica’s mind could touch nothing else but Kilgrave’s movements, his words. She swallowed audibly, but her eyes were intent and focused now.

“Good girl.”  
He praised, lacing his fingers through her own to closen their contact.  
  
“Now, I want you to remember just how lonely you’ve been since leaving me there at that crash site all those months ago. Ah, ah. Slowly, now, don’t rush it.”   
Kilgrave encouraged, seeing Jessica blink rapidly, confusion touching her usual composure.

She _had_  been lonely. Every night she had spent curled in the shadows of closed alleys and sleeping on window sills, she had felt the solitude creeping into every inch of her being. It brought her down, so far down she felt herself becoming one with the dank concrete of the city. She watched the dark figures that she chose to trail in some kind of futile attempt to feel alive again, wishing their simple lives onto herself.

“You felt a flood of relief upon finally seeing me, didn’t you?  You could feel it, somewhere in your heart that I was still alive. That I would come back for you. And I did. I did because I promised I would never leave you.”

She remembered seeing Kilgrave through the glass on the skyline apartment, how she felt as if her heart were about to leap out of her chest as their eyes met again. She had thought it was fear, but perhaps it was something entirely different. Perhaps it was this relief he now spoke of.

“And now that I’m here, Jessica, there is nowhere else that you would rather be. I want you to say it back to me.”

“There’s nowhere else I would rather be.”

He smiled. “Nor I, my love. I’m so glad to hear you feel the same.”  
  


Kilgrave’s commands had always been the mere whims of a puppeteer, making Jessica dance any which way his fancies desired. Now, as Jessica sat plainly in her forest green dress, listening to all Kilgrave had to share, she felt an entirely new kind of control. The tendril’s of Kilgrave’s influence were no longer the pull of reins, but the very blood flowing through her veins.  

This was something different entirely.  

She felt happiness. No, not quite happiness- content. The words were not commanding her to lift a hand, to strike or kiss or do anything with her body. They were simply telling her to remember. The memories conjuring in her brain were new, but they felt as if they had always belonged there. They changed everything. Every action she had carried out, every angry outburst she had made.

She felt guilt.  
  


Tears welled in her hazel eyes, and Kilgrave was fast to wipe them away.

“Oh, Jesse. I know it’s been hard. But this…” He gestured, bringing both of their hands up to his lips gently.  “....this can only grow stronger. Trust me.”

He promised, grooming back the raven hair from her neck. Kilgrave sighed again, before letting go of Jessica’s hand, much to her sudden dismay.  
  
“But now, you need some time to yourself.”   
  
“What?”

Jessica blanched, the words so unexpected that she was left with her mouth held slightly open by surprise. Her hands felt empty now where Kilgrave had once been grasping them, and she already felt that familiar  pang of loneliness return to her gut, simply from the man’s mere words. She hated herself for it.  
  
Kilgrave offered no other words of comfort, straightening his suit and running a hand through his own hair, which had gotten progressively more disheveled as the night had transgressed.

  
“While I’m gone, think long and hard about everything we talked about just now. I’ll be back to see you in the morning. Your bed is there, through that door. Wait for me there.”

He smiled politely, nodding in the direction of the main lodging quarters before slipping away easily from the table.

  
Jessica’s mind, already replaying their conversation in detail, allowed her tired legs to carry herself to the foreign and empty bed waiting for her. Sleep would escape her for the first night of many spent alone.


	4. Chapter 4

Trish woke up collapsed in her bed, still clothed and with a pounding headache. Her throat felt dry and sticky, and her eyes opposed the light that was filtering in through the windows, which she had forgotten to lock.

What had she done last night?

She couldn’t remember the last time she had picked up a bottle, let alone hit it hard enough to have a hangover. Something would've had to push her over the edge for this to happen.

It was her mother- maybe her unexpected visit was the last straw in Trish’s mess of a life. It wouldn’t be the first time she turned to substances to try and relieve her stresses. It made her cringe to think the woman still had that much sway over her.

Trish wouldn’t let her win this, though. She refused to let her get back under her own skin.  
  
Rebelling against the notion, Trish had managed to work herself up to a fume. She wasn’t really mad at her mother though- no more than she usually was. It was more just bitter disappointment in  herself for letting her mother get to her again.

Between the surges of anger, small slivers of drunken dreams seemed to push at the back of Trish’s mind.

_/ Faces, some familiar, some not. Violent blows. Strange and distracted lips locked on her own. Jessica watching some place near. /_

__

The thoughts were forced back out of Trish’s conscious as soon as they began to peek through. She couldn’t seem to hold onto them for longer than a second. It was like a pair of hands were trying to shield her memories from her mind’s eye.

That, and she didn’t seem to _want_ to remember. It was like there was some kind of great insensitive for her thoughts to evade her. Every time another recollection was pressed away, she found relief, and even satisfaction, in the new ignorance.

That wasn’t like her, and she knew it.

Still, Trish could find a sick sense familiarity in the feeling all the same. She had felt the same kind of fulfilled relief as when Jessica had put a bullet in her head (so to speak.)

This wasn’t a hangover, this was an entirely different kind of poison. The concept hit her like a blow to the stomach.

If she couldn’t remember, there was only one reason for it.

Her hands couldn’t find her phone fast enough, frantically punching in the numbers that would lead to Jessica’s voice.  She cursed softly, but was by no means surprised when it went to voicemail. Studying her phone in a kind of resolved state of panic, Trish tried to think of who to call next.

She couldn’t call Simpson- that was an entirely different mess that she simply didn’t have time for. Malcolm had left town, and every other contact in her phone was either business or charity related.

Luke- Jessica had called him from Trish’s phone a few nights ago. It was a long shot, but she didn’t have much of a choice.   
  
Scrolling through her call history, Trish selected the only number she couldn’t recognize. An apprehensive voice picked up on the third ring.

“Who is this?” Trish asked hurriedly, the female voice on the other line unfamiliar to her.

“My name’s Claire. I’m taking care of Luke Cage. Or, I was.” The voice said, a hesitant pause lining her words.   
  
Trish ignored the evasive statement- that could wait.

“Look, he’s gotten her. I don’t know how, but she wouldn’t just disappear, not with everything that’s been going on. And, I can’t remember anything from last night. It’s him, it has to be him!” She nearly stuttered, forgetting to breath and taking a sharp inhale of air after the exhausting outburst.

The woman on the other line seemed surprisingly calm in comparison, though her words were rushed as well.

“Wait, hold on. Kilgrave has Jessica, is that what you’re saying?” The woman tried to clarify, only flaring Trish’s anger again.  
  
“Yes! Where is he- where’s Luke? We have to do something.” She reiterated again, not caring who else she dragged into this now.

There was the sound of shuffling and movement through the receiver, and Trish was already gathering her keys and coat by the time there was a clear reply.

  
“He took off on me. Not like I should be surprised- he sounded as frantic as you do.” Claire continued, not giving enough time for the desperate woman on the other end of the phone to bark more questions out.

She hadn’t meant to, but Claire was in this now. If she was going to get tangled in this affair, she was going to do all that she could. She could be of help, and she knew it.

“Look, we’ve never met, but Jessica trusted me. If you’re a friend of hers then you’ll know how much that means. I don’t know where Luke’s gone, but I have someone else who can help.”  
Claire offered, and when there was another beat of silence on the other end of the phone, she continued.  
“I can be at the dockyards in 45 minutes, maybe half an hour.”

The offer gave Trish pause. Meeting up with strangers in secluded spaces wasn’t exactly in her nature, but what else could she do? If there was even a slim chance that this could help Jessica, she was willing to risk it.  
  
“Fine, but be there in ten.”  
Trish said in parting words, slamming her apartment’s door behind her so hard the heavy door swung back on it’s hinges. She didn’t bother to turn back.  
  
Across the other side of town,  Claire Temple wondered who the hell she had just talked to. Knowing she didn’t have time to dwell on it, she took a collecting breath. She had another phone call to make.

* * *

It had been one hour and forty three minutes by the time Jessica was finally able to find her own words in her mind.

“ _Fuck him.  Fuck him right up his vile, manipulative British ass.."_   She swore, thinking long and hard about the conversation the pair had just had, exactly as she had been instructed.   She did this while simultaneously throwing apart the small bedroom she had been sent to with every ounce of wiry strength she had left.

Three hours, twenty seven minutes....  

"Fuck!" She screamed , knowing the tears and heartbreak that her memories were now trying to make her relive over Kilgrave weren't real. She hadn't missed him.  She hated him.  When she used to see his shadow around every corner they weren't dreams, they were nightmares. It was like someone had used a VCR and taped over all the events of her life. She hated every inch of him for doing this to her again. Her mind told her it was sentiment.

Six hours and four minutes…

He wanted her to feel lonely in his absence? Fine. She was used to solitude. Every second that ticked by was another second for her to think about his stupid face and remember the hatred she harboured for it. She'd rather not be anywhere else but here? That was right- here, so close to Kilgrave. Close enough to finally get to him, to end his reign over her life.  She could make it through this. She had escaped once, she could do it again.

Eight hours and twelve minutes....

Jessica had exhausted herself. Her body had elected for rest long ago and had sunk back against the wall in defeat. Her mind still raced, however sluggishly, to maintain her train of thought. It was not impossible to twist Kilgrave's commands as she had done before-spinning his words as much as her psyche would allow so as to not lose herself- but it was exhausting. It was like constantly swimming against an endless tide. One weak stroke meant a mile out to sea.

She kept repeating the same words to herself, kept replaying each scenario that was getting harder and harder to remember.

Ontop of it all was that horrible inclination to _wait_. It was like missing the bottom stair. There was pent up adrenaline in her chest, sickening anticipation that she knew would go away as soon as Kilgrave walked through the doorway.

He was a sick bastard for making her want the relief of his presence.

Nine hours and thirty seven minutes….

The small cabin’s door creaked open. Jessica leapt at the noise, half dreading Kilgrave’s appearance and half desperate for it.

When the man did stroll into the room with dilerate ease, Jessica found the fulfillment to be short lived, and she was once again filled with disgust at both the man and herself.

  
“Oh, Jessica.”  He sighed, a deep sound of regret lacing his words, though Jessica couldn't tell if it was genuine or not. He was freshly groomed and smelling  strangely of iris bulbs and Jasmine.

“What’s all this about? Talk to me.”  
He cooed,  enjoying every moment of uncertainty that was unravelling before him.

She was suffering, frustrated and helpless. He relished in the moment, knowing that he would be the one to save her.

"Thinking. You told me to think!"  Jessica hissed through clenched teeth, refusing to make more eye contact with the man than necessary. She kicked out at an overturned suitcase nearby, sending it skidding across the length of the room where it dented the wall on the other side.   
  
Kilgrave frowned at that, immediately displeased with the angry tone Jessica had taken with him. He had wanted her conflicted, not throwing a tantrum. Her voice could be so lovely when she was happy, all chiming and innocent. He much prefered her that way over this mess of stubborn anger she seemed to be clinging onto now.   
  
“Don’t snap at me, Jessica. It’s unbecoming.” He scolded impulsively, satisfied when silence fell between them. The feverishly energy in the room was distracting. Kilgrave hated it.

Against his usual instincts, he chose to soften rather than match the heated intensity.He moved slowly over to where Jessica was crouched on the carpet. She was going to ruin that pretty dress if she stayed there any longer. No matter. He’d be able to buy her new ones soon enough.  
  
“I didn’t mean to keep you from sleep, Darling. I told you, I forget the power of my own words sometimes.”   
He lied, his tone light and dismissive as if he were a careless husband who had forgotten something back at the market. As he reached over to her, Jessica flicked her head back angrily, avoiding the contact.

"Why are you always flinching at me? I've never once laid a hand on you." Kilgrave snapped, losing his temper at the disdainful gesture.

"If you don't stop that i'm going to.... No, no." He paused -  not something Kilgrave was known to do often. He began wagging his finger in front of Jessica's eyes, making small clicking noises with his tongue.

"No, that's right. No more threats. I said it'd be different this time, I meant it. You're going to make me a better man, Jessica Jones. " he vowed before lowering himself down to her level, hands on his knees like he was speaking to a child.   
  
“But first, you need to calm down. What are you so angry about? I know, you’re tired. That’s it isn’t it?” Kilgrave assumed, nodding as if trying to convince them both that this was the truth. Jessica wanted to kick out again and watch him fly across the room with the same ease as the suitcase had.   
  
“Let me take care of you. Remember how soundly we used to sleep, entangled in one another?” Kilgrave sang. “Relax.” He added, snaking a hand along Jessica’s waist and helping her to her feet. All the tension released from her frame, as if cool water had doused the flame inside her.

“Stop...” Jessica groaned half heartedly, going limp in Kilgrave’s arms. The gears in her mind finally slowed to a stop.  
  
“I don’t plan to, Darling. Sleep, now.” He whispered.  
  
The chilled shiver running up Jessica’s spine was as good as a lullaby, and Kilgrave caught the remaining weight sinking into him. With closed eyes, Jessica looked at peace again.

 **  
**Kilgrave combed back her hair with his fingers, adjusting his hold on her as if she were his new bride being carried up over the threshold.  
  
“Don’t be out long.” He breathed, voice falling upon deaf and dormant ears.


	5. Chapter 5

Watching Jessica sleep was something Kilgrave had never really savoured. He had no reason to.

Sleeping was boring- nothing but a routine necessity. He much preferred Jessica awake. Her bright eyes were always so alert and alive as soon as daybreak would rise over the city.

Jessica seemed to prefer it that way as well. Kilgrave remembered how he would have to command her to stay in bed whenever they would settle down for the night On the evenings he forgot, sometimes Kilgrave would wake to find her half clothed in the kitchen, rooting through the cupboards for God-knows what.

He figured it must have been hunger driving her steps, and so made an effort to always bring her breakfast in bed from then on. Every morning it was a meal someone else had prepared in his hands. He would encourage Jessica to eat slowly, and would talk to her about his plans for the rest of the day. She would listen and chew thoughtfully, and he would brush back her hair and ask if she wanted another new coat.

This time could be exactly the same. He could bring her breakfast, keep her calm and complacent and content while he did so.

She slept soundly now, delicate features hiding the fierceness still hot within her. Kilgrave ran a delicate finger across her bare shoulders, slipped the fallen strap of her dress back to her collar bone. He wanted to consume her entirely just then, show her the vastness of his love and let the both of them forget the past 6 months entirely. Kilgrave could certainly ignore it with ease.

With his parent’s being the exception, he really wasn’t one to hold a grudge. Kilgrave was very much like a rapid flame- quick to ignite and fast to extinguish. If he held any rage or resentment, it was typically short lived. That was part of what made Jessica so special. Despite the time, the distance, Kilgrave still felt as impassioned and enamoured with her as he had felt the first night of  their meeting. Infact, the fascination had only grown. Even being left to die had sparked an intense love and obsession for the girl, which he had gladly embraced and refused to hide. He could look back on all the ugly dealings and misplaced resentments with silver linings. All was forgiven. They could pick up just as they had left.

However, it was more complex than that. Kilgrave knew he couldn’t live on without Jessica now that he had lost her and won her again. He was willing to do anything now if it meant keeping her, even if that meant waiting, Going on as they had before was too risky. Jessica would get confused again- would get scared by her own desires.

She had been happy, he knew she had.  She had done things he hadn’t asked, kissed him without him having to spell it out for her. (Eventually, of course. The first few months were still a learning curve.) It was preposterous to say he had forced it all upon her, but if that was how she  truly felt, than Kilgrave would do his best to remedy it.

He would gain back her trust and elicit her affection by any means necessary.

And he would listen.

He would well and truly try to listen this time. Jessica just needed to be reminded of how happy they were and all the resentment would go away. It sent an anticipating shivering up his spine and down between his legs to think of it.

And once all was sorted, once Jessica saw that he was so much more than an impulsive man with the world at his fingers, then they could go back and find all the ones who had hurt them, who had helped to draw them apart. Jessica naturally pushed others away, but she refused to snuff them out of existence for good. It’d be much easier if he could persuade that stubborn conscience of hers to be a bit more lenient.  

Luke Cage would be the first on their list. Even if he hadn’t of weaseled his way into Jessica’s life and helped to plot against Kilgrave himself, it was his bloody wife who had made Jessica leave in the first place. If she hadn’t of had such a weak heart, then Jessica wouldn’t have been scared off...

It was almost as if Jessica could feel the suppressed anger radiating from Kilgrave’s frame as she stirred, lips pressing together in a hard line and fists tensing beneath his encircled arms.

She had been out for a few hours, and Kilgrave’s patience was certainly at his limits. Now was as good a time as any. He’d have all the time in the world to watch her sleep later.

 

“Jessica...Jessica, Love. Wake up, now.”

He cooed, brushing her rosy cheek. The bleary eyes he had been fantasising of disappeared in an instance, replaced with shock and an unwarranted recoil from his face as they focused back to the waking world.

“You’ve had a bad dream, don’t you worry. I’m here to make it all disappear.”

 

\---------------------------------------

 

It was a bright morning,  and the moist planks of the pier were reflecting back the sunlight into Trish’s sensitive eyes as she waited, and waited, and waited. It felt as if she had been waiting for hours, nothing but distant traffic and the sound of lapping waves hitting the wooden docks to fill the silence. She paced frantically and considered abandoning this vague plan she'd come up with altogether and taking things into her own hands. After all, she didn’t  _need_ anyone's help- not Simpson's or Luke's or whoever this 'friend' supposedly was.   
  


Just as Trish passed the same uneven plank for the hundredth time, feet skidding easily against the dank ground, a car pulled hastily into the empty lot beside her. Unable to see the driver but certain it must be who she’d been waiting on, she abandoned her pacing line and started towards the vehicle.

 

When the door opened and a thin, exhausted looking woman exited the car, and Trish wasted no time on introductions.  
  
“It was you. You were who I was speaking to, right?”  She nearly hissed, words rushing to leave her mouth as quickly as possible.  
  
Claire Temple had expected as much, and so kept her face as calm and resigned as she could muster. She hadn’t slept in nearly 24 hours, going back to back working a double shift at the hospital, and then caring for Luke before he had taken off on her watch. And now here she was, getting herself even more entangled in the web of these stranger’s lives.  
  
“Claire, yes. I know you’re panicked right now, but I’m going to need you to calm down, alright?” She offered, understanding the distress but frankly not having patience for the misdirected anger.  
  
Trish looked as if she were about to implode, before swallowing back her manic state, flushed skin softening to a more natural hue. “You said you could help.” She responded, deadtoned.  
  
Claire nodded. “I think I can.”  
  
This seemed to spin Trish back into her uncharacteristically shaken demeanor once more.  
  
“You ‘think’ you can? What the hell does that even mean!” She yelled, throwing her hands in the air but feet staying firmly planted in place. When there was no response, she suppressed back the bubbling anxiety once again, feeling sick -though not understanding why- when her eyes scanned past the pier where Kilgrave and Jessica had been standing the night before.  
  
“You mentioned someone. Who are they?” Trish continued, needing to get some kind of relevant information before she lost her mind in anticipation.  
  
Claire nodded slowly, imagining Trish like a concerned parent just finding their child asleep in the emergency room. “They’re special. Like them- Jessica, Luke, Kilgrave. They’ve all got something different about them. My friend does too.”

 

Trish looked unimpressed, keeping her arms crossed defensively over her chest.  
“Different isn’t always good. I got strangled by someone under the orders of someone ‘different’.” She rebuttaled,  giving Claire pause enough to think over her next words carefully.

  
“Look, you know the kind of world we live in. Sometimes the good guys and the bad guys aren’t always so different. Still, the least we can do is tell the assholes from the decent people. My guy is decent. And he’s the best shot for getting Jessica back.”  
  
A tense silence fell between them.  
  
“Where do we find him?” Trish finally responded with finality, her mind decidedly made up.  
  
Claire gave a faint smile, pleased that she had won this little victory for now. “We don’t. He already knows. He’ll be meeting with us tonight."

 

“Tonight?”  
  


“He doesn’t exactly work daylight hours.”  
  


“I don’t care about whatever dramatic-superhero lifestyle he’s got going, this is _important._ More important that you know!” Trish insisted.  
  
A gust of wind off the water seemed to mirror Trish’s declaration, rushing between the two women and sending their hair flying into each and every direction.

  
“I know. I know what it’s like to have someone you care about in danger, but you need to trust me. He’s already looking into this, even if you can’t meet him just yet. He knows what he’s doing- he’s used to making life harder for people like Kilgrave.” Was Claire’s best response. “And in the meantime, run me through what happened last night. Whatever you can remember, let’s start there.”  
  


\--------

  
With a task at hand, Trish was immediately starting to feel improved, if not more desperate, as she walked with Claire around the docks, trying to catch traces of memories from the previous night. “I don’t know...I was drunk. Or, I feel like I was. But I don’t drink.” She tried to explain, knowing how ridiculous it would sound to someone outside of her situation.  
  


“And now with both Jessica and Luke missing, I don’t know what to believe.” She admitted. “I mean, how do we know that Kilgrave doesn’t have them both?”

 

Claire shook her head calmly. “He doesn’t. I was there speaking with Luke a few hours ago. He probably left to try and piece last night together just like you and I are doing now.”

 

Unconvinced but without alternatives, Trish put her faith in the other’s words. They walked along the water more, grey clouds beginning to blanket New York City, breeze continuing to pick up speed over the sea.  
  
“A plan. We had a plan- a way to lure him out.” Trish remembered suddenly, stopping in her tracks. “I was going to stand in for Jessica and be a distraction. Everything was set. And then….”  
She struggled, cursing loudly when her mind came up blank once again. A tired hand reached up to pull at her own scalp in frustration.

 

“Ok, good. That’s good, it’s a start.” Claire interrupted in encouragement. wanting to keep the woman’s mind occupied and away self deprecation. “We can work with that.”  
  
Trish shook her head.  
“He has her. He really does.”  She seemed to finally declare with certainty, eyes becoming bleary. The full weight of the situation was finally sinking in, and Trish found that the depressing burden of despair hurt far more than rapid anger.   
  
“It will be alright.” Claire tried to comfort, though she knew they were empty words.  

  
Trish shook her head again, eyes looking out to the approaching storm gathering close. “No, it won’t. It’s already too late.”


	6. Chapter 6

Jessica and Kilgrave sat across from one another, eyes locked and postures rigid, as if they were attending a private lesson shared only between the two of them. Their stolen yacht had began to toss freely among the surrounding waves picking up outside. They were both still in their formal clothing, having not had time or motivation enough to dock and get new ones. 

 

Kilgrave felt as if the power that had once been simply laced into his words, now danced freely from his fingertips. Jessica was becoming responsive and polite, more so than she had ever been before, even with veiled suggestions instead of strict commands. A few more days of careful conditioning and he was certain that he’d be able to bring Jessica to clarity about her true feelings towards him.    
  
“Imagine your mind like a calming ocean….” Kilgrave continued, trying to help his partner find peace but failing as the boat was suddenly thrown forwards by the angry sea around them.    
“You know what, forget it. I’m no good at this zen-type nonsense. Let’s go back to the normal stuff.” He decided.   
  
Jessica didn’t so much as blink, her eyes hazy and far away from the chaos around her.   
  
“Why are you here, love?”. Kilgrave asked instead, knowing he didn’t need to obtain Jessica’s attention before he asked. There was nowhere else for her mind to go, after all.    
  
“Because I followed you onto the yacht like you asked.”   
  
“No, why are you _really_ here? You’re here because you want to be.”   
  
“Right.”   
  
“There we are.  Now say it so I know you mean it.”   
  
“I came because I wanted to.”    
  


Jessica had been making excellent progress, even in their short time together. It made Kilgrave want to jump forward and hold her like he used to. But patience was a virtue, so he was told, and Kilgrave was positive that  the Jessica he was helping to grow would be well worth the wait.    
  


“Now that all that’s settled, why don’t you tell me more about your friends- about Patsy and that cop bloke you saved the while back.”   
He invited, receiving an even and plain spoken reply.   
  
“Trish is my best friend, I would do anything for her.” Jessica declared.    
  
“No, you wouldn’t. And she isn’t.” Kilgrave replied back, watching for any flicker of emotion on Jessica’s face as he said the words. There was none.   
  
“I wouldn’t.” Jessica agreed shortly after, memories of fierce emotion and protective natural for the woman diminishing like a weak flame on a dying wick.     
  
Kilgrave smiled back, all teeth and carefully displayed charm, daring to take it one step further.    
  
“She was something for you to pass the time, sure. But let’s be honest, she never saw you as anything more than a guard dog against her idiot mother.”   
  
Jessica nodded compliantly, wondering why she had said Trish was her friend in the first place.   
  
“If either of us see Trish Walker, we’re going to going to make sure she’s dead so she can’t bother us anymore.” Kilgrave insisted.     
  


The tiny voice within Jessica that was fighting to separate fact from Kilgrave-made fiction was slowly drowning under the immense weight of the man’s control. Experiencing physical commands all that time ago had left Jessica trapped inside of a prison of her own mind, knowing all was wrong but powerless to fight it. This manipulation of emotional desires, however, was far less easy to suppress now that Kilgrave’s heedless hands had taken hold. Jessica couldn’t listen to her own thoughts anymore- they were slowly slipping into subconscious obscurity, being replaced with nothing but what truth Kilgrave presented her.

  
Yes, Trish was a bother.  Jessica could remember her now, flaunting over fame and her wealth as a child and excepting Jessica to hover over her; bask in the light that was the Famous ‘Patsy’.  But, to kill? That seemed too severe, too much punishment even for Trish’s social crimes. What tiny part of Jessica’s resistant mind that remained tried to twist the command. Unfortunately, the smallest twitch of her brow in concentration gave her away, and Kilgrave’s once-calm words surged forward, pulling away the tethering vines of sanity from Jessica’s head.     
  
“Jessica, you will kill Trish Walker on sight and you will enjoy doing it, understand?” He commanded, voice laced with just the faintest hint of frustration.   
  
“No, no, wait. Forget I said that.” He quickly corrected before she could answer, and Jessica’s mind was wiped clean of the last few moments.    
  
“You’re angry with Trish Walker- you hate her. What with her barbie-girl hair style and smug little radio-talk show...” He sneered, remembering what the woman had said about him on air all those weeks ago. “And worst of all, she’s going to keep getting in your way if you let her in. She wants to keep us apart, and we can’t let that happen can we? You’d kill anyone who tries to take you away from me.”    
  


With these words, Kilgrave was satisfied in feeling that he were giving her a choice- presenting her with options to choose from, and therefore making the great change between this time and the last. Before Jessica could answer, their boat was hit by another unexpectedly vicious swell, nearly knocking Kilgrave off his feet while Jessica remained serenely placed where she sat.   
  
“Jesus! Did the captain fall off the bloody ship?” He yelled out, knowing the crew would hear him from below, though no response came down. “We’d best find a harbour- you don’t mind getting out for some fresh air, do you?” He suggested, extending a hand to help Jessica up to her feet.  Their next session could wait, the two had been working for hours now. A little fun was just what they needed.

 

\---------------------------------------------------------

 

Jessica didn’t know what city she was in. The town and people were unfamiliar, the streets were small and barren compared to the bustling energy of New York City. The storm that had caused them to dock was still blowing on land, though less severe than on the water. Jessica’s tight dress offered her very little shelter from the elements, and though she didn’t greatly notice the chill, she couldn’t help but eye the Akris Trenchcoat adorned by a passing woman with her husband, walking arm-in-arm towards them. 

  
“That’s a nice jacket- give it here.” Kilgrave instructed swiftly as the two nearly bumped shoulders, the woman immediately disrobing and handing it over. Without missing a beat the couple continued walking on, though Jessica could hear sounds of confusion coming from the older man, before the words were lost in the evening wind. 

 

“Here you are, darling. I’d like to see you in a little more colour, anyhow.” Kilgrave offered, passing Jessica the garment.    
  
“Thank you.” She found herself saying quietly, pulling it over her shoulders and buttoning it up hastily, finding relief from the outside elements with the warm cloth now encompassing her.    
  
And there it was. The first, very little, sign of affection. She had thanked him. Kilgrave didn’t even have to command her to put the jacket on! She had done it all of her own.    
  
“Oh, Jessica, you’re welcome. You’re welcome to anything.” He sang, stopping in his tracks and wrapping a protective hand around her waist. “There’s nothing I wouldn’t get for you.” He continued, looking again like that excited child who had just unwrapped his most prized gift. “Anything else you want, I’ll get it! How about a new ensemble, eh? We could…..”    
Kilgrave continued, rattling on and listing every piece of clothing and jewellery that he could think of. The words stopped having meaning after a while, Jessica’s mind wandering to the other outside stimulus this city seemed to offer.   
  
Over his shoulder, Jessica could make out the ending of a news piece from a lit television screen in a small-scale diner window.  The sound was locked away by the layers of glass separating them from the warm restaurant, but judging by the headlines, she could make out the jist of it - mass casualties, world leaders, something about a team of ‘Avengers’. She could see the devastation on screen, the news anchor’s solemn face as the report outlined in further detail the recent events in Lagos, Nigeria.   
  
She had stopped walking all together, Kilgrave noticing after several lone steps and actually managing to shut his mouth for a few moments. “What is it? What are you looking at?” He asked, a little offended that Jessica’s attention had been so easily persuaded elsewhere. He spared a glance at the screen, dismissing it with a scoff and a wave of his hand.   
  
“Ah, see? What did I tell you? There’s no such thing has ‘heros.’ I was just ahead of the curb.” He dismissed, obviously uninterested in whatever else the story had to say. “Now, as I was saying…”  Kilgrave was about to continue, before his words died out among an unfamiliar, strained voice approaching them. A homeless man, dressed in grey and worn clothes was uncomfortably near. He rattled the small paper cup in hand, begging for a dollar to help him eat for the night.     
  


“Oi! We were having a _moment,_ here!” Kilgrave spat in response, direction diverted long enough for Jessica to focus back onto the station curiously. 

 

A new story had started, a bold headline reading “New InHuman Activity?” scrolling across the screen.  On it, a familiar pier, now empty but undoubtedly the one Jessica had been standing on just a day or so ago. As people began entering and leaving the diner next to her, Jessica could hear snippets of audio from the old television. An eye-witness seemed to be recalling the events that they had seen- people screaming, falling over one another and attacking seemingly-out of the blue. There had been no testimony of those involved, which had the public wondering what, or who, was involved in the short-lived mass riot. 

 

The seed of a thought grew somewhere in Jessica’s mind, one that Kilgrave had helped to shape but not entirely commanded. Her ‘friends’ back home would see this. They would know that she and Kilgrave had left by the water. The thought was uncomfortable, unnerving even. 

In that instance, Jessica didn’t want to be found.    
  


“Walk into traffic and don’t stop until you’re hit hard enough to never ask for change again!” Kilgrave spat at the old beggar, who dropped his cup unceremoniously, small coins scattering across the sidewalk. Realising his harsh words to the stranger, Kilgrave paused, glancing back to where Jessica looked, seemingly enthralled by the news screen.    
  
“You don’t mind do you?” He asked, half in confusion, surprised there was no sudden protest or indication of disapproval from his companion.   
  
Jessica’s eyes finally peeled away from the show, completely ignorant to the man walking shakily out into the road.    
  
“No, not at all.”  she smiled.    
  



	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flunked an exam, wrote another chapter. All in a day's work.

 

The news story had been an unexpected blessing for Trish when she saw it that afternoon.  The pair officially had their first real lead. Claire had spent all morning with her, but the two had pieced together very little from the scene they had continued to walk over and over again. No matter how close a thought or clue seemed to get, Trish’s mind would come up blank

 

After plenty of exhausting hours spent gathering what was essentially, nothing, the pair were finally going to meet up with the help Claire had promised. They headed back to the empty train station, waiting for this 'friend' to solve their problems.

And Trish was anxious. She was starting to sway like a racehorse pacing behind the starting gate when Claire broke the tense silence between them. “He should be here any minute. Don’t worry.”

  
She comforted, though it did little to calm Trish’s nerves. Her foot tapped unconsciously, echoing like a frantic clock in the empty building. She didn’t even know why they were back here in the first place.

 

Giving up on her until Matt Murdoch arrived, Claire crossed her arms and glanced subtly at her watch when a deep voice broke through the air.  
  
“Got held up at the office, my apologies.” Matt smiled from around his mask. The two women jumped slightly, Trish far more than Claire, though both turned quickly around to face their new companion.

  
Claire sighed heavily. Matt knew how important this was, and now wasn’t the time for jests.  
  
“This is Trish….”  Claire began, only to have her introduction cut short.  
  
“Trish Walker. I listen to your show.” Matt greeted, though noticing the hard lines of the woman’s  face, quickly changed his tone. “Claire has already told me everything. We’re going to find out what happened here.” He assured.  
  
Trish nodded, eyes scanning the stranger up and down and taking in the dark red costume and stoic stance. She had always tried to get Jessica to wear one of these outfits like the one the stranger was wearing, but now that she was seeing somehow dressed in it, Trish admitted it seemed rather foolish.  
  
Still, despite all her anxiety, she was grateful for whatever help this man was willing to offer. She quickly explained as much as she could, even though Matt was well informed on the comings and goings of one ‘Kilgrave’, and his associations with Jessica Jones.

 

“So what’s your plan, then?” Trish asked bluntly as she finished, unimpressed with the whole spectacle so far.

 

“We start with the source. You were here earlier.  With all the bullet holes and debris I’m surprised anyone made it out.” Matt replied, already beginning to survey the building as best he could from where he stood. His words didn’t require a response, and he continued to talk, sensing there was something else off about their surroundings. He stopped his words abruptly,  putting a hand up as a smokey substance finally reached his notice. It was heavy. So heavy he was surprised it wasn’t the first thing he distinguished upon entering the area.

 

As Matt paused, he trailed throughout the scene in his mind,  completely stilling as he focused in on what he was looking for.  
  
“What. What is it?” Trish pressed, wondering what had stopped the man’s speech. She  stepped forward but paused when Claire stopped her with a hand and a quick shake of her head.  
  
Matt tilted his head, but only a fraction. Trish’s patience timed out quickly again, and she pushed past the careful hand holding her back when Matt finally replied.  
  
“There’s something here.” He replied cryptically, moving now and trailing around the room.  
  
“Do you think you might be a little more enigmatic for us?” Trish hissed back, causing Claire to step forward again and try to comfort her. Trish didn’t respond to the gentle hand on her this time.  
  
“I mean there’s something in the air. I can smell it.” He clarified.

 

Panic hit Claire’s features, though her tone remained even.  
  
“Is it a gas leak? Did he know we’d be coming back?” She asked, preparing to leave at any moment if she had to.  
  
Matt shook his head.  
  
“No, it’s something...organic. It’s human.” He said. “There’s no direct source, it’s just in the air.”  
  
Trish gritted her teeth, not seeing how this was of consequence.  Claire was far more patient, letting Matt size up his surroundings completely before he added.  
  
“It’s practically palpable. It’s taken up the entire space. It’s on all of you now.”

 

Matt continued to move along, finding that it was the strongest on Trish, but that both he and Claire were starting to pick up the scent as well.  It wasn’t an entirely unpleasant smell, but it was stale, like the smell of an attic in summer light.   

  
“How did you say Kilgrave works? He can just say something- anything, and you have to do it?” He asked, back now turned to the other two.  
  
Trish nodded, speaking evenly for the first time. “It’s more like compulsion. His words make you _want_  to do it. It’s as if everything is on fire and the only way to douse the flames is to do what he says.”

 

Matt mulled these words over, imagining the scenarios that had played out with the man already.

  
“And how does it work- can he do it with just his voice? Would it work through a television screen, for instance?”  
  
Shaking her head, Trish tried to think. “I don’t know. I mean- Jessica was able to keep him locked in a hermetically sealed room at one point. As long as you were outside, you were safe.”

“This is good. This is very good.” Matt replied, turning about and practically disappearing into the darkness.  
  
“Wait, where the hell are you going!” Trish swore after him, about having it up to here with whatever kind of cryptic vigilante type this figure was.    
  
“I’ll meet you back at the docks. I know how to find him.”

\--------------------------------------

“‘Not at all?’ Seriously?” Kilgrave blanched, trying to find any hint of deceit or trickery in Jessica’s expression. “I mean, not that I’m complaining. I just... thought you were quite dedicated to that whole ‘do-gooder’ lifestyle.”  
  
Jessica drew her attention entirely from the news program again and moved  her eyes to the hunched figure standing directly in the roadway, much to the protesting horns of the whizzing traffic nearby. She didn’t know the man, but his actions were loud enough to tell her he was under Kilgrave command. She hadn’t even noticed the man’s approach or interaction at all, far too engrossed in the diner window at the time.  
  
Another truck barreled past, nearly knocking the man off his trembling feet, and Jessica flinched at the closeness. She couldn’t let Kilgrave see though, couldn’t let him command her further into compliancy. It was true, she had a deeply seeded desire to stay with him thanks to his careful words on the yacht, but that didn’t mean that was the only desire she had.  
  
“If he lives, he’ll tell whoever will listen what happened. They’ll find you again.” She said simply, watching as another near-collision was narrowly avoided between a vehicle and the silhouetted figure.  
  
She remembered more of Kilgrave commands. About Trish and the others and what would happen if she saw them again. Pathetic tears threatened her eyes, and she quickly swallowed them down.  
  
“I don’t want them to find us.” She admitted, steady voice somewhat strained with the weight of her words implications.

 

“Oh, no. Of  course you don’t, Sweet Heart.” Kilgrave exhaled, a look of pure bliss falling around his pointed features, completely misunderstanding her plea.  He cupped Jessica’s pale cheeks and kissed her forehead gently, exhaling again against her wind-swept hair. “I shouldn’t have been so foolish. You! Come back here!” He ordered to the nameless figure still mingling amongst the busy road. Obediently, the man marched his way back over to where the two stood.  
  
“Don’t bother us again, and don’t tell anyone what happened here. Now go.” Kilgrave instructed, not even looking the stranger in the eyes as he spoke. “There, is that better?” He asked once he and Jessica were alone again, and Jessica nodded slowly in response.    
  
“Perfect. Now, let’s grab dinner.”

 

\--------------

 

The two ate at a private table with a doting staff responding to their every whim. They talked about everything that came to Kilgrave’s mind- about where they should go next, about where they wanted to live, if perhaps they should go to the cinema tonight after they dined. Kilgrave made a conscious effort not to give his companions direct commands, testing just how well his patience was working so far. It wasn’t until he mentioned New York again that Jessica’s eyes really lit up, and she began talking with more ferocity than before.

 

“I don’t want to go back.” She protested quickly, gripping  her silver utensils so tight that the precious metal began to slowly bend under her palm.

  
“Relax, darling, no one said anything about going back. Not yet, at least.” Kilgrave laughed, reaching over and putting a hand over Jessica’s clenched fist.

 

“But it’s a fantastic city. You should know, you grew up there. I just hate the idea of cowering away from it. I mean, _us._ We shouldn’t be afraid of anything!” He exclaimed, as if it were the most obscene idea he’d ever heard. He waved away the offered wine from one of the wait staff  and tapped his finger rhythmically against the table, eyes vacant as he started to think more on the matter.  
  
“I mean, what are we doing? We’re running away. We shouldn’t have to run away from anything.” He scoffed, leaning back in his chair and  beginning to work himself up the longer he dwelled on it.  
  
“We aren’t running away, we just want to be alone.” Jessica responded keeping her eyes fixed on her companions  every movement.

 

“Don’t be daft, Jessica. We aren’t alone. Look around you.” Kilgrave challenged, Jessica’s eyes obediently  falling upon their surrounding servants and the other patrons in the restaurant. “Alone is boring. I want you all to myself, of course, you know that…” He corrected, “But alone? No, we’re running scared, that’s what we’re doing.”  
  
“No.” Jessica challenged again quickly, because whatever part of her remained knew she couldn’t let Kilgrave start thinking like this. “No….dear. We’re not.” She forced the word out, and it came out as strained and muddled as she feared it would.  
  
Kilgrace froze, his eyes narrowing and an eerie silence falling between them. “You are. I knew it. You’re playing me, aren’t you?” He accused calmly, and Jessica couldn’t even bother to shake her head in protest.  
“Just when I thought…” He stopped, biting his lip in frustration.

 

“I’ve been so good to you, Jessica. I haven't done anything to hurt you, why, _why_  are you still acting like a prisoner?” He asked, and when no response came, he ran a shaky hand over his face in frustration, trying to collect himself.

 

“From now on, I don’t want you to say anything you don’t mean, alright?”  
  
The truth was, the false term of endearment had hurt him like he hadn’t expected. Jessica’s hate was one thing. It was fierce, but Kilgrave relished in being able to extinguish it. Something like this though, to actually have her try and deceive him into thinking she cared, that was something different. It reminded him of how his mother had hugged him and apologized and pleaded to forgiveness before stabbing him back in that chamber.

  
“There has to be some trust here. Understand?” He said, and Jessica nodded her head, despite her hope that Kilgrave might lose his temper and give her an ounce of satisfaction. Regardless, she wouldn’t be trying that again, that was for sure. Kilgrave’s anger aside, the word had left a bad taste in her mouth.  
  
“Good. I know you’ll get there in time, don’t rush it.” He decided. “We have all the time in the world, after all. Now, what were we talking about? Yes, New York……”  
  
\------------


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was completely inspired by this clip from the show. [ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=M2EnkK3fxMM ]  
> I had it in mind when I first started writing this fic, so I’m glad I finally got around to being able to incorporate it. 
> 
> Also, I listened to The Vitamin String Quartet’s cover of Cheap Thrills the whole time I was working on this one. You should check that out as well at the link below.  
> [ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xZrn0DxL2hY ]

Jessica felt blessed enough that Kilgrave didn’t press much about what had caused her to use the false pet-name after they resumed their dinner discussion. He talked more on New York, about his frustrations at having to leave it.  
  
He had said all that he wanted was Jessica, but that wasn’t true. It couldn’t be. The man was too frugal and distracted to stay fixated on one thing for long. Once he had what he desired, his mind was apt to move to other places. Which meant Jessica had to keep fighting, as hopeless as it was, to keep the man on his toes however she knew how. Because returning to New York meant more destruction to her world than she could allow.  

She could feel herself slipping, bit by bit, every moment getting lost in a command or a request and forgetting, even for only a second or two, who she really was.

 

She had said once that getting Kilgrave out of her head was like prying fungus from a window. With all the enhancements now, Kilgrave was more than just sticky moss. He was like forest veins, with each new sprout all the more suffocating. And there was no escaping it this time, no few moments of clarity if Kilgrave forgot to give her direct orders. He was in her head, and heart and very breath. His words stuck with her more than the 12 hours she had once been able to count down. All those things the man  had said days ago-about wanting to be there, about relaxing and trusting-they all remained. But so did Jessica.

 

If he didn’t say the right things, Jessica could still hang onto those secret little inclinations  and thoughts that she kept hidden away.

And so it was, that while her emotions and temper, and even memories, were enslaved to the Purple man’s tongue, she kept the key to her freedom locked away within herself.

 

The dinner was finished languidly, and  soon the two were back out on the street, scouting the finer apartments and deciding where they were to spend the night.  
“Right, up to a rooftop somewhere for drinks, I think, and then to bed.”  
  
The implications drew thorns in Jessica’s gut. No, not this, she couldn’t go through this again. Everything up to now could have been a horrible nightmare, but that was too real.

 

“I’m very tired.” She said, her words limited by Kilgrave command to only say what she really meant. She could have made the excuse that she didn’t want to drink, but the lie was impossible to squeeze through her teeth.  
  
“Oh, don’t be like that. I have great plans for us tonight. We’ll just have to wake you up a little bit.” He grinned, hands thrusting into his coat pockets and whistling like a young man lucky in love.

 

“I’m plenty awake. I’m just tired.” She reiterated, sparing a sharp glance before continuing on down the road. Kilgrave pretended not to  hear.

 

\------------------------------

 

Before long, the pair had found a less-than-humble abode to take shelter in for the night, ordering the young bachelor who lived there to stay locked in the guest room until they left tomorrow morning. Jessica had bigger things to focus on than the comfort of the stranger,  and so barely spared him second thought.

 

Kilgrave did just as promised, opening the balcony doors and handing Jessica a glass of expensive-sounding wne to begin the evening he had planned.

 

“Look at that view. It’s all rather mundane, isn’t it?” He asked, looking out to the meager lights and low skyline of their current city. “I can’t stand the small towns. It’s suffocating.” He continued, taking a deep inhale and grimacing at the rich drink in his hand, clearly unimpressed.

 

Jessica didn’t care much for the quiet life either, to be honest. It was too personal. There was nowhere to disappear in a thin crowd.  

  
Meanwhile, Kilgrave was still trying to decide if tonight called for another conditioning session or not. He didn’t relish in being able to command Jessica anymore than he did with anyone else- it was just a necessity to make her see what was really in her heart- about what the two could be _without_ Kilgrave’s powers or Jess’ resentment.

 

The more he could avoid them, the better. Besides, tonight she had said ‘thank you’. All on her own! And true, she had a slip up at the restaurant, but perhaps that was just a learning curb.  
  
“How are you feeling, Darling? Anymore awake?” He asked, lightly petting the bare skin of her shoulder and smiling when there was no flinch away from the contact. “Maybe we should get you your coat.”

“I’m not cold.” She replied truthfully, which brought forth a bubble of laughter from the man beside her.  
  
“You certainly had me fooled. I know you’ve got affection somewhere in here.” Kilgrave teased, stepping forward and pressing a hand against where Jessica’s heart thrummed loudly. “I know you can feel it regrowing, this bond between us.”

 

She could, though she wouldn’t call it a bond. More like iron chains, or a cruel bit with reins in unsteady hands.

 

“I don’t want to.” She admitted curtly, having no choice in her truthful reply.  She finished off the rest of her wine, trying to focus on keeping her answers as short and untelling as she could. The wind from the earlier storm had all but died down, and it brought an eerie quiet and stillness to the scene of the sleeping city infront of them.  
  
“Oh, Oh, of course. You’re afraid of your own feelings. You always were so headstrong. After all these years alone, _of course_ you’re nervous.” Kilgrave jested, squeezing her hand and lifting it to him lips as if to kiss it.  
  
Jessica felt her rage boiling up to the surface. All that careful planning Kilgrave had done to lull her into compliance had been a mistake. She could be calm and angry at the same time, and right now her anger was winning out against the gentle tendrils of rest trying to lull her defences.  
  
“No! You’ve made me want to be here, but I don’t need to care for  you!” She swore, wishing she could stop herself but unable to. Her careful plan was dissolving at her own acid words.

 Kilgrave was taken aback by the sudden confession, more shock than displeasure registering on his features. He gripped the hand layed in his own tightly,  brows etching together “Jessica, _calm down_ ….” He insisted, not understanding in his thick mind where this outburst was coming from. Everything had been going splendidly. She was fed, and clothed, and frankly, had nothing to complain about, by Kilgrave’s standards.

 

“I don’t want to be calm. I want to _die_!” She fumed, despite the feeling of inner tranquillity washing over her. The honest words vomited from her mouth, like Kilgrave’s instructions were a flu her body was trying to cleanse herself of.  
  
He exploded then, throwing the wine glass from his free hand against the balconies wall, fine glass shattering into a thousand pieces.

 

“You’re making this very difficult, Jessica!” He screamed, and Jessica got what little satisfaction she could find in seeing the man lose his temper at her own hands again.

He ran a shaky hand through his hair and then ran it down the length of his face. It was a common habit for him in times of stress.    
“I didn’t want to do it this way, Jess. I really didn’t.”  He growled, voice a bit quieter now but no less intense, pacing the small balcony several times before spinning on his heel and stepping dangerously close  to the balcony edge. One push, that would be all it would take for him to go toppling over the edge.

 

“Look me in the eyes.” Kilgrave’s voice snapped, the fantasy disappearing into the oblivion of Jessica’s mind.  
  
“Stop it!” she screamed, eyes forced to lock onto Kilgrave, pure rage guiding against her better instincts.

“You’re not the one giving orders. Now, follow me.” He replied curtly, turning quickly and walking straight back in through the french doors and stalking to the master bedroom some several meters away.

 

Jessica followed him down the unfamiliar hallways, catching glimpses of abstracted artwork and portraits on the stranger's walls.

  
  
“Sit on the bed and don’t move.” He instructed, taking off his jacket and loosening the silk tie wrapped around his neck. Jessica perched on the edge of the mattress, struck dumb and mute by his commands.

Her stance was rigid and still, and when Kilgrave crossed the room and sat down beside her, the sinking mattress gave way and brought the two closer together.  
  
“Listen very carefully.” He hissed, starting to play with her hair,  brushing it away from the ear he was beginning to empty his words into. “I want you to take all the anger, all that resentment, and turn it into warmth. Do you hear me? I want every bit of vexation turned to love.” He commanded. His voice still held his own frustration in it, but the words were hurried and soft.

 

Jessica  couldn’t help it. She remembered that she was suppose to be angry. She remembered everything that had made her so….but her fury was gone, and a new kind of pain replaced it.  
  
Though she remained unmoving, Kilgrave could tell by the set of her shoulders that it had worked.  
  
“I want you to feel and hear everyone syllable of my voice. Do you feel it, Jessica?”

It felt almost like hypnotism, but Kilgrave didn’t mind so long as she was following his orders.

“You want to kiss me, don’t you?” He asked suddenly, moving away from her ear to watch her expression, Jessica’s dark eyes dilating amidst the dim, fluorescent  lights of the bedroom. “Or maybe you want me to kiss you. You do. You want it so badly. You can almost feel my skin on yours now.” He continued to coo, lightly running his finger along the bare skin of her arm, tracing figures and shapes with his fingernail and then removing the contact.  
  
He could see the goosebumps his touch had left behind, could see how she was reacting to him. He wanted nothing more than to have her right then and there, but finer things were to come.  
  
He hovered teasingly close, Jessica feeling the emptiness inside her like a vacuum pulling at every nerve in her body.

“You can move now.” He baited, and his companion gasped, as if she had been holding onto a breath the whole time.

 

“Please..” She finally stammered out, reaching forward, taking a fine grip on the collar of Kilgrave’s shirt and using her brute strength to bring him close, her eyes pleading and focused. 

The man fell forward in response, a wide grin spreading across his face. “Good. Now let go.”

He taunted, and Jessica’s hands released him in an instant, her wide eyes surprised with just the smallest amount of genuine pain peaking through.

 

“You deserve to know what if feels like to be rejected. It stings, doesn’t it?” He spat, noticing how Jessica’s hands still hovered outstretched, as if they longed to take him into them again. He couldn’t stay angry at her for long,  not when she looked so helpless there, practically begging for him to let her move closer again, but he needed to stay strong if this was going to work.  
  
“What, you expect me to just stay waiting for you to come around? I have more important things to focus on.” He lied, fixing his shirt and doing up the last few buttons Jessica had somehow managed to unfix by grabbing at the fabric. “You want me to take you back, but I need convincing.” He explained, lifting himself from the bed and heading towards the door.  
  
“I’m sorry! I don’t want to be left alone!” Jessica called after him, voice harsh and desperate to keep him there. It felt like all the oxygen had been sucked from the room. She _needed_ him to forgive her. Nothing else really mattered in the world.  
  
“What do you want? I’ll do anything.” She  pleaded, getting up now that she was allowed to move and crossing the room just short of where Kilgrave stood.

  
With a cruel smile, he reached out and tilted Jessica’s chin with a delicate finger. “That’s so nice to hear, darling.” He praised, leaning forward to whisper against her lips. “But I’m not convinced.” He lied again, turning on a heel and closing the door behind him.  
  
“Stay there for the night. And don’t stop apologising.” He called through the oak barrier, voice muffled but commands no less clear.

  
  
  



End file.
